


Happy Birthday Kid(d)

by Rinbin



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Birthday Fluff, Birthday Party, Gen, best boy's birthday!, birthday angst (it exists ok), didn't mean for this to be so angsty at the beginning I TRIED TO FLUFF IT LATER, implied akira/ryuji because ur girl has no self control
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-23 15:43:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11405484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rinbin/pseuds/Rinbin
Summary: It's Ryuji's birthday but he didn't tell anyone beforehand and he's 2nice2tell them now





	Happy Birthday Kid(d)

**Author's Note:**

> (unbeta'd) BELATED BIRTHDAY POST FOR MY BOY
> 
> this takes place in an unknown section of time where the PTs are all there and it's July 3rd but it's not in-game but it's also not really post-game either

He’s in his room reading a manga when his mom knocks softly. He raises his head and looks at the door, small smile on his face at the way she actually waits for him to confirm she can come in.

“Yeah?” he asks. She opens the door slowly and pops her head in.

“Almost midnight, kiddo,” she says. She looks tired from her double shift today and he knows she’s probably already tired for her double shift tomorrow, but she’s working doubles all week so she can take the weekend off. It’s a gesture he appreciates more than his mother could ever know, yet another reminder of the way she sacrifices everything for him. He’s almost guilty about it, but he knows she’d throttle him if she knew that, so instead he resolves to be overly thankful on Saturday. To treat her as much as she’s treated him over his lifetime.

He smiles a bit and nods, “Yeah, yeah, I know. Gotta get to bed.” He makes an annoyed sound as he closes his book and places it on his nightstand, “Can’t believe you’re makin’ me go to school on my _birthday_.”

He catches her eye, though, and they both know he’s not seriously annoyed, could never be annoyed with her. He swings his legs over the side of the bed and walks over to his mother, pulling the door a little wider and leaning to give her a quick kiss on the cheek. She smiles wide and reaches to ruffle her hands through his hair; he makes a half-hearted attempt to dodge it but ends up leaning into her hand once it gets there. He secretly loves this little gesture of hers, reminding him of the happier parts of his childhood, standing at his mom’s side in the kitchen, or in public, or just outside of school.

“Ma,” he chuckles softly.

Suddenly her smile drops and she looks at him carefully, like she’s studying him, eyes roaming over his face, his neck, his shoulders. He’s taller than her now, has been for about a year, but he seems especially tall now. Her hand drops to her side.

“The blond suits you, Ryuji,” she muses, “I know I said that when you first did it, but especially now. You look older already.” Then she frowns, but there’s a glint in her eye. “Give me back my little boy,” she pouts.

“Pfft,” he scoffs, “You say that like I was ever a little boy.”

Ryuji intends to be joking, he really does, but immediately they both realize that it’s partly true; how he’s been robbed of a childhood, taken greedily by a man who’d rather spend time with empty bottles and bruised knuckles from hits he doesn’t remember landing. How he grew up too fast, learning how to protect his mother by calling attention to himself, egging on the sorry excuse for a father he had. Watching his mother cry as she bought only long-sleeved shirts for him, knowing she felt guilty and hopeless because he felt that too, much too young to be feeling such burden and far too kind to let his mother carry it alone. How those soft ruffles of hair were the only sign Ryuji had that hands could be kind, gentle, and loving too.

Before she can say something--an apology, he fears, she always apologizes like it was her fault--he pulls her into a hug, pressing her tightly against his chest.

“‘M always gonna be your little boy,” he says and she squeezes him back.

When she pulls back and looks him in the eyes, she sees the boy he’s been, the man he’s becoming, and her heart swells. Ryuji’s eyes swim with heartfelt emotion as he grins down at her, taking the opportunity to ruffle his hands through _her_ hair. She laughs out loud, the booming sound filling their small apartment, serious air dissipating between them. If you ever asked him, he’d say his favorite thing about his mother was her laugh and the way you could hear nothing else, just the joy in her voice.

She pats him gently on the back and wishes him goodnight, walking down the hall to her own room. She pauses in her doorway and looks back him, smiling.

“Happy birthday, kid,” she says.

He smiles back. “Thanks, mom.”

 

* * *

 

His alarm goes off _way_ too early and he taps his phone angrily, not really caring if he turns it off or snoozes it. Both are fine. Maybe if he turns it off and falls back asleep he won’t have to go to school.

“Ryuji! I heard that alarm but I don’t hear any feet!” he hears from down the hall. _Damn, so close._ He sighs and forces himself out of bed to begin his morning routine. His mom leaves a few minutes later, on her way to work, but she mentions casually that she’s cooked a bunch of waffles for him to eat before he goes. He doesn’t even want to think about how much earlier she had to get up to do that for him so instead he makes her wait to leave until he can give her a birthday hug goodbye. She ruffles his hair before she walks out the door.

When Ryuji gets to the train station, he sees Akira standing by a pillar, hands in his pockets, waiting patiently for the next train. He smiles happily and picks up his pace until he’s standing at his friend’s elbow. Morgana notices him first, opening his mouth to probably say something rude but a yawn comes out instead. He lifts a paw almost as if to say “one moment” while the yawn finishes.

Finally: “You’re looking particularly dumb today.”

Ryuji scowls. Why did he bother waiting for that? He didn’t expect Morgana to be nice to him, not even on his birthday, but it’s a little heavy-handed for as early as it is.

Akira hears Morgana speak and turns, face expectant. When his eyes land on Ryuji, he smiles.

“Hey Ryuji,” he says cooly. Ryuji hikes his bag up and grins.

“Hey man, how’s it goin’?”

Akira shrugs. “Just a normal Monday, you know?”

Ryuji’s face falls back into a scowl. “Uh, y-yeah, I guess.”

He grows silent, trying to come up with a reason for their aloofness. I mean, he definitely told them his birthday was today. Didn’t he? Wait. _Did_ he? He tries to think of what Akira’s birthday is, or Morgana’s, or Futaba’s and--oh. That explains it. When were friends supposed to discuss birthdays though? Was it on him to just announce it, or on them to ask? Ryuji’s frown deepens. Well, he certainly couldn’t tell them _now._ It’d be weird, like he had some sorta weird expectation from them. Or he’d make them feel bad and oh man, he definitely doesn’t want to do that. His friends have enough on their plates already, no need to go addin’ to the pile.

Nah, it’s not that big of a deal, he decides. A normal Monday, just like Akira said. ‘Sides, he didn’t like a ton of pomp and circumstance anyway, sheepish under such attention. It was bad enough his mom was gonna spend the whole weekend doing birthday things with him. A normal Monday: perfectly fine by him.

The train arrives just then and Akira looks at Ryuji.

“Ready?” he asks. Ryuji sighs, thinking about the school day ahead. He’s pretty sure he has a quiz in history-- _on his birthday._ A cruel world it was, indeed. Maybe he can pull the birthday card in there; it’s not like any of his friends were in that class anyway.

“As I’ll ever be,” he grumbles.

 

* * *

 

Turns out the birthday card doesn’t work on shitty adults. _Effin’ figures._ Ryuji sighs and writes his name at the top of his quiz.

 

* * *

 

Down the hall, in English, Akira bends forward and pretends he’s got an itch on the back of his head.

“I mean, it _is_ his birthday, right?” he whispers to Morgana when he’s low enough. Morgana sighs, irritated.

“I dunno! Ask Lady Ann!”

Akira grunts, now also irritated, and leans forward to press his pencil on Ann’s shoulder. She jumps, surprised, and waits until Ms. Chouno is turned away to look at Akira.

“What?” she hisses, twisting in her seat.

“You’re _sure_ it’s Ryuji’s birthday today?” he asks. It’s not that he doesn’t believe her, considering she’s Ryuji’s longest running friend, but Akira likes to believe he’s at a top tier of Ryuji’s friendships and isn’t totally sure Ryuji wouldn’t have told him his own birthday. Admittedly he’s a little jealous Ann knows and he doesn’t; a little hurt Ryuji didn’t say anything if it was, indeed, his birthday.

“Yeah, pretty sure. Why?”

Akira gives her a look. “He didn’t say anything this morning.” If she’s wrong about this, this afternoon is going to get pretty awkward.

“Well, what did you say to him?” her eyebrows crinkling on her forehead.

“That it was a normal Monday.”

She rolls her eyes. “You didn’t have to go _that_ far,” she says, “You’re unreadable enough as is.” Ann thinks for a moment, hand on her chin. “Did he say what he had for breakfast?”

Akira recounts their train conversation in his head: Ryuji’s manga he was reading, Akira’s new videogame, their least favorite Shadows to beat in Mementos…

“Waffles!” he says suddenly and a little too loudly. Nearby classmates turn to glare at him.

Ann breaks into a wide smile, “Then yes, it’s definitely his birthday.” She turns back around just as the teacher faces the classroom once more.

 

* * *

 

Back in Ryuji’s classroom, the room is quiet while they finish their quizzes. He was pretty sure he should still be working on it, at least for appearances, but he “finished” the quiz ten minutes in and everyone knew him well enough that he didn’t finish fast because he knew the answers. Didn’t really bother him though--people already didn’t think much of him and no one expected any different so he had no one to impress.

He slouches a bit in his seat and pulls his phone out of his pocket. He makes a face when he sees that Yusuke’s texted him, fifteen minutes ago, and not in the Phantom Thieves chat.

 

**[Yusuke]**

Ryuji, is Captain Kidd’s cannon on his right arm or left?

 

He reads the text twice, confused, when Yusuke texts again.

 

**[Yusuke]**

I know you keep your phone on in class. This is urgent. Please respond.

 

Ryuji chuckles, unsure what could be urgent about his Persona, but with Yusuke anything is possible. He types a quick response.

 

**[Ryuji]**

right. why?

 

**[Yusuke]**

Thank you.

 

He waits for the elaboration that doesn’t come.

 

**[Ryuji]**

Yusuke why

Yusuke

cmon man

ugh. fine.

 

With another tap of his thumb Ryuji finds Akira’s name and opens their private chat.

 

**[Ryuji]**

History quiz is brutal. beware

 

**[Akira]**

Ha, thanks.

Wanna get ramen on Saturday?

 

Ryuji lets out a stifled groan. He definitely wants to--he loves hangin’ with Akira more than he loves a lot of things--but there’s no way he can ditch his mom.

 

**[Ryuji]**

Sorry man, got plans with mama

 

**[Akira]**

You still call her mama?

That’s cute.

 

**[Ryuji]**

Shut it

 

**[Akira]**

I’m serious! But since when does your mom have a weekend off?

 

Ryuji is touched by the fact Akira remembers his mom’s typical work schedule but doesn’t know how to proceed. Maybe he could pretend his birthday is on the weekend? But, oh geez, if he does that he’s gonna have to pretend that’s his birthday _every year._ That is...assuming he’s friends with the Phantom Thieves his whole life...they’re never not gonna be friends, right?

Ryuji’s stomach flips uneasily. He had lived a life of solitude for a year after the track team disbanded, after everything that happened with Kamoshida. It was lonely; no, beyond lonely, it was maddening. He figured he was payin’ his dues but boy, it nearly drove him insane. Almost broke him, too, he thinks. He was at his breaking point when he met Akira and, well, he’s had at least one friend at his side ever since. He got Ann back, befriended an art nerd, learned class prez was actually badass prez, and Haru and Futaba were like the older and younger (respectively) siblings he never had. Even Morgana wasn’t half bad when he wasn’t hell-bent on makin’ Ryuji look like an idiot.

They were his Team 2.0, his best people, the new place he belonged. Being with the Phantom Thieves was like being home, a family of choice.

And then his heart sinks as a thought pops up in his brain he can’t push away: _everyone leaves eventually._ He once thought the track team was like a family, too. He thought his dad was family and look how well that went. _But the Thieves...they’re not like everyone else._ They’re better. _...Aren’t they?_

 

**[Akira]**

Don’t tell me you’ve turned a new leaf and are paying attention in class now

 

Ryuji’s attention is diverted as his phone lights up and, when he sees the message, he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

 

**[Ryuji]**

Nah sorry, got lost in my thoughts

yeah my mom’s workin doubles all week so she can have the weekend off

  

**[Akira]**

Can’t believe I lost the opportunity to take you out to your mom  
Actually I can

Your mom seems great

Is there a reason she’s taking you out?

 

Ryuji doesn’t want to lie, he really doesn’t, but more than that he _really_ doesn’t want to make Akira feel bad. Akira, their fearless leader, fellow troublemaker, has enough to worry about. It’s not worth it.

 

**[Ryuji]**

nope!

 

* * *

 

Akira stares at his phone blankly before turning the screen to Morgana. Morgana retreats further into the desk with a small hiss, blinking rapidly to adjust to the sudden light that fills the darkness.

“He says there’s no occasion,” Akira says pointedly.

“So?” Morgana asks, pawing Akira’s wrist aside, away from his face. Akira withdraws his hand and puts his phone back his pocket. He makes a frustrated sound.

“Why won’t he say it’s his birthday?”

“What else did you expect from such an id--”

Akira rams his knee up into the desk and Morgana squeals. The desk jumps into the air and jostles, Akira’s notebook falling to the floor. The entire class turns his way, suddenly silent, while Ms. Chouno raises an eyebrow.

“Sorry,” he says, smiling sweetly, “Random shiver.”

Ms. Chouno doesn’t try to disguise the roll of her eyes so Akira just smiles even sweeter. Once everyone gets back to work (after whispering about his reckless, unpredictable movements), Akira sticks his hand into the desk and pinches Morgana’s ear.

“Ow ow ow! Hey!”

“Be nice to Ryuji, especially today,” Akira’s voice drips with authority. Morgana realizes he’s serious, so after a pause he nods. Akira’s fingers separate and Morgana immediately rubs at his ear, massaging the pinched skin. He pouts even though Akira can’t see it.

Akira’s phone makes a soft “pi” noise and he pulls it back out, hoping Ryuji’s texted him with a “just kiddin’ bro! It’s my birthday!” but instead he sees Haru’s name.

 

**[Haru]**

I am leaving school early to bake the cake! Has he guessed what we’re doing yet?

 

**[Akira]**

No

He actually hasn’t even acknowledged it’s his birthday

It’s kind of weird

 

**[Haru]**

Oh…

Perhaps he’s afraid of getting older?

 

Akira snorts.

 

**[Akira]**

I don’t think so

Just can’t figure it out

Anyway, thanks for baking the cake! I’ll text everyone when we need to “meet for Mementos”

 

And, on that note, Akira opens up a new chat.

 

**[Akira]**

How goes the decorating?

 

**[Futaba]**

If this crepe paper tears on me one more time I will become a serial killer and not look back

you’ll have to do my palace over and over again:

2 futaba 2 palace

Futaba’s palace: tokyo drift

Futaba & palace

You get what i’m saying?

 

**[Akira]**

Yeah I got your tokyo drift ;)

 

**[Futaba]**

ugh, you’re first on my kill list

 

**[Akira]**

:) but for real, sorry, just made the most sense since you’re not in school all day

 

**[Futaba]**

I am literally not even 5 feet tall akira what part of this made sense

 

Akira chuckles at the thought of Futaba standing on his couch, stretching up to the beams and coming nowhere close. Alright, so she wasn’t the _best_ choice, but it was either decorations or cake and there’s no way he trusted her in the kitchen. Kawakami pops into the room and clears her throat, asking to speak to Ms. Chouno. Akira looks up and catches her eye. She’s let his texting off the hook up through this moment but it’s clear from her face that he’s used up his allotted time. He pockets the phone and gives her a curt nod.

 

* * *

 

Ryuji doesn’t hear from Akira until the lunch bell rings and Akira’s voice is floating down the hall, over the heads of the other students and landing in Ryuji’s ears. He turns, smiling, watching Akira slip past the other students. He doesn’t even have to shove, just moves effortlessly between their bodies. It’s kind of incredible, honestly, how swiftly Akira can move.

“Hey man,” he greets when Akira reaches him. Akira flashes him a toothy smile and it catches Ryuji off guard, seeing a full smile from his friend. Akira’s a pretty chill guy who doesn’t show a ton of emotion--this smile is something new. It sends waves of warmth over Ryuji.

“Hey you,” Akira says in return, bumping Ryuji’s shoulder with his, “Wanna eat on the roof today?”

Ryuji starts nodding before Akira can even finish his sentence. It’s been awhile since they ate their lunches up there, choosing instead to meet with the other Thieves at lunch to discuss thief business (with Mishima, of course). Eating up there reminds Ryuji of when it was just him and Akira, and even though he wouldn’t trade his new friends for anything, those early days seemed easier. On their way up the stairs Makoto’s coming down and she meets them with a narrowed gaze.

“The roof, hm?” she suspects and neither boy is surprised that she guesses correctly. Ryuji raises a hand in surrender and begins turning to head back down the stairs when she sighs.

“Just...don’t make a mess,” she says, looking off to the side. Ryuji freezes, surprised Makoto’s actually letting them go up there, but Akira just grabs Ryuji’s bag and drags him up the stairs backwards.

“Thanks Makoto!” Ryuji shouts at her when she watches them go. He waves enthusiastically, legs instinctively scrambling backwards up the stairs (he can’t believe he hasn’t ate it yet). She tries to keep her face serious, but at the last second, right before Akira drags Ryuji around the next flight of stairs, she breaks into a genuine smile.

Once at the top of all the stairs, Akira pulls him around front to the doorway.

“Straight ahead, vulgar boy,” Akira says, gently pushing him forward.

“I know where I’m goin’, delinquent,” Ryuji grumbles as he pushes the door open. Akira’s being extra...friendly today, Ryuji thinks. Not that Akira isn’t friendly normally, but he isn’t usually touchy like Ryuji tends to be (can’t help it, he doesn’t like sittin’ still). He doesn’t search for Ryuji in the hallway (other way ‘round nine times outta ten) and he _definitely_ doesn’t use nicknames. Ryuji chews the inside of his cheek, sunlight covering his skin once he steps into the fresh air.

“Everythin’ alright, man?” he says, turning once the door shuts behind Akira. Akira looks up at him in surprise. His eyes are wide, lips parted slightly, and the expression looks too pretty to be real. Ryuji half-considers suggesting Akira start modeling with Ann.

“What?”

“I asked if everything was okay. You’re actin’ weird.”

Akira snorts, face falling back into his typical mostly-bored expression. “You’re one to talk.”

Ryuji sits heavily on one of the abandoned desk and whips his backpack around to grab his lunch. “Whaddya mean?” he says, digging through the bag, eyes not leaving Akira. Akira, however, isn’t looking at Ryuji. Or, if he is, Ryuji can’t tell cause of the way the sunlight glints off Akira’s glasses. Instead of answering, Akira just saunters forward, tugging on a strand of hair that’s fallen over his forehead.

Ryuji waits patiently for an answer; Akira does this sometimes, growing quiet as he thinks over what to say. Akira had a wit quick as hell but he also had moments where he just fell silent and into himself a bit, disappearing from those around him. Ryuji knew it could get on people’s nerves, Ann in particular who always wanted some sort of response back immediately, but he never minded waitin’. Akira’s silence felt like the balance to his own impulsive volume.

While Akira thinks, Ryuji retreats into his own mind as well. Okay, so none of his friends knew it was his birthday, but it wasn’t turnin’ out so bad after all. He got to hang with Akira, one-on-one (a harder feat these days), on his favorite place in the school. Really the only redeemable place of the school, but he digresses. He hasn’t seen Ann yet but Morgana hasn’t said a single rude word while they’ve been on the roof and even though it’s been like, two minutes, it still feels like a record.

Makoto seemed happy to see him too, which was nice. Not that she’s ever not happy to see him, but they have different attitudes in school. Remembering the history quiz earns himself a downward twist of lips, but he chases it away when the sun comes out from a cloud and shines over everything. He lifts his face to the rays and drinks them in.

Akira had a response, opened his mouth to say it, but then Ryuji looks up at the sun and everything he was going to say whooshes out in a soft sigh. Ryuji glows, practically as bright as the sun, small smile on his face. He looks like he’s absorbing the light and when he stops, looks at Akira, and flashes him a genuine smile, Akira knows he’s right. He suddenly looks older to Akira, right in this moment, like he’s actually aged on his birthday. He knows that’s impossible and must be a trick of the light, but the hardness in Ryuji’s eyes has turned into something like wisdom. The fingers that dance in his lap seem less anxious and more anticipatory. His work in the gym is treating him nicely: his broad shoulders, wide chest, and narrow waist all make him look like he’s filling out his frame. For a second Akira sees the boy become a man, but then Ryuji laughs lightly and it’s so joyful, so full of such light and optimism, that the boy seeps back into Ryuji’s skin.

“What were we talkin’ about again?” Ryuji asks, still smiling, hand coming up to scratch at the back of his head.

“You, mostly,” Akira says, smirk playing on his lips, “Being weird like usual.”

“Har har,” Ryuji rolls his eyes, but it’s meant to be playful and Akira doesn’t mind. He whips the clementine his mom packed for him at Akira--deep down he knows it’s not gonna make contact but he hopes for it anyway. Ryuji blinks and the fruit is safe in Akira’s palm, just next to his head. The smirk gets bigger.

“Nice try,” Akira lobs it back to Ryuji, “But we’re not changing the subject.”

“Hey, I _started_ this conversation with _you_ bein’ weird!” Ryuji counters. The clementine lands softly in his open palm, right on target. “You changed the subject to me!”

Akira chuckles, “Alright, you got me there.” His face suddenly grows serious as he sits down in one of the desk chairs, propping his elbows on the desk and leaning forward. Ryuji is technically looking down at Akira, but the authority in his expression makes Ryuji feel like he’s in a hot seat. The sunlight plays off of Akira’s glasses again.

“Ryuji,” he begins, and now his tone is soft, “Do you tell me everything?”

Ryuji swallows, looking down at the ground. It feels like Akira is getting at something but he’s not entirely sure what. “Yeah, man, course I do.”

“Do you ever feel like there’s something you can’t tell me? Or something you don’t want to?”

Ryuji’s face twists with concern and confusion. “Dude, what are you gettin’ at?”

Akira doesn’t falter, just keeps staring at Ryuji with those gray eyes (that Ryuji still can’t entirely see, dammit, which makes this even more intimidating).

“I just want to know everything about you,” he says simply. “You’re my best friend.” The words touch Ryuji deeply in his heart and he blushes wildly. He can’t help the nervous laugh he lets out.

“Dude, don’t go sayin’ cheesy shit like that,” and now he can’t bring himself to look at Akira, who is probably back to smirking, “You’re gonna make some unsuspectin’ sap fall for you that way.”

“Here’s hoping,” and yeah, Ryuji can hear the smirk, damn bastard. He wills the blush to go away while Akira brings out his own lunch (curry, it smells like) and begins eating. Ryuji takes a bite of his sandwich and considers what Akira’s said: what did he mean? Was there some secret he was keeping that he didn’t know he was keeping? Did Akira know something about Ryuji that he didn’t?

Oh god. What if he has a palace? And Akira knows?

His body grows cold for a good five seconds before he shakes his head. No, that wouldn’t be it. If he did they would’ve just told him and saved him. Ryuji knows he’s not the greatest guy, would probably have a palace if he hadn’t become a Phantom Thief first, but he’s not _that_ bad. So what could Akira have meant?

A little piece of paper flutters out of Ryuji’s backpack and he groans lazily, hopping off the desk to pluck it off the ground. He thinks it’s a dumb note from school to be shown to his mother (which he never did) but when he flips it over he immediately recognizes his mother’s lopsided handwriting.

 

_Happy birthday sweets! Not sure I’ll be home before you go to bed but I’m looking forward to spending the weekend with my favorite son. Also my only son, but that’s less important :) Love you!_

 

He smiles warmly like he always does when he thinks of his mother. A thought occurs: his birthday. Akira didn’t know it was his birthday. That could be something to tell him, right? Something to appease this weird “get to know you” vibe he was gettin’.

“Akira,” he begins, but the look Akira gives him is so sweet and expectant and _hopeful_ that Ryuji just can’t give him the burden of not knowin’ his birthday, probly displacing some guilt and then making Akira feel like he would have to do something to make up for not knowing. Ugh, Ryuji can’t do that to the guy. Or worse, what if there was something Akira actually _was_ getting at and telling him it was his birthday would just be mundane? Like a dumb, small blip on the bigger radar of Akira’s life and focus. Ryuji’s birthday wasn’t that important, not when there was society to reform and shitty people to change. Ryuji could imagine the frustration on Akira’s face as he tells him that’s not what he meant and that they had bigger fish to fry and--yikes, yeah, that’s a lot worse than making Akira feel guilty.

“I uh,” Ryuji’s gotta finish now, somehow, “I don’t like the dark.”

Akira’s face gets so terribly and honestly confused for a second that Ryuji almost feels guilty himself. It’s clear that’s not what he was expecting to hear. “Huh?”

“I don’t like the dark,” Ryuji kicks at the ground, embarrassed that he’s had to reveal something he hasn’t told _anyone_ instead of just saying his birthday, but he’s already started now. “Used to get locked in it sometimes when I was a kid. Just...not a fan.”

The expression on Akira’s face softens quickly almost like it’s melting. “Oh,” he says quietly. “Thank you...for telling me that.”

Ryuji shrugs. “You asked.”

And here Akira smiles to himself, but it seems like a secret smile. The bell rings right then and Ryuji groans, looking at his half-eaten sandwich. He is _not_ ready to get back to class, but Akira stands and takes two steps over to him, slinging an arm over his shoulders. He pulls Ryuji into a side hug, nuzzling the top of Ryuji’s head with his face, and laughs.

“C’mon, we got places to be.”

 

* * *

 

After school Ryuji finally sees Ann and he hopes-but-doesn’t-hope that maybe she remembers his birthday. They used to have obligatory “birthday snacks” where each kid would have to bring a snack on their birthday and his class would look forward to Ryuji’s because it signaled the approach of summer. Ann, having been in his class two years in a row back then, might remember it. Course, maybe she didn’t, and that was okay too. No one needed to.

She walks up to him with Akira just behind and smiles happily at him. “Hey!” she waves. Ryuji waves back, grinning, and when she doesn’t say anything more he’s not terribly disappointed. He assumed as much and it doesn’t hurt his feelings at all. He can’t really remember hers, to be honest, so it’s only fair.

“I was thinking we should have a Thieves meeting this afternoon,” Akira says when he walks up.

“Oh? But we don’t got any targets right now,” Ryuji answers.

“Y-yeah,” Ann begins, her voice high and squeaky, reminding Ryuji of when they were trying to trick Yusuke, “But it’s not like we need one to meet! Y-you...you missed it! At lunch! Yeah, uh, Mishima said there’s something in Mementos for us to take care of. He told me, Makoto, and Haru about it.” She giggles at the end and it sounds way too forced. Ryuji’s eyes flash to Akira, but he’s not much help. He just shrugs. 

“It can’t hurt,” he says, and Ryuji honestly can’t argue, so he follows them to the station. Besides, he’s not too keen on spending the rest of his birthday alone. He’d rather spend it with friends who didn’t know any better than with an empty apartment.

 

* * *

 

Akira gets a flurry of panicked texts from Makoto as soon as they enter the station, but the service is never quite good enough and he’s too busy talking with Ryuji, Ann, and Morgana to hear it going off.

 

**[Makoto]**

I don’t know which one he wants.

You told me the title but there are seven volumes and I assume he has at least the first one.

Akira, I’m serious. Answer me.

***Missed call from: Makoto***

**[Makoto]**

Okay I’ll send you a few photos, tell me which one it is:

(attachedpic.1)

(attachedpic.2)

(attachedpic.4)

(attachedpic.3)

Did those send?

I’m going to be late if you don’t answer me right now.

 

***Missed call from: Makoto***

**[Makoto]**

Akira if you can’t answer your texts at least pick up the phone. Why was this my task?!

 

***Missed call from: Makoto***

**[Makoto]**

Actually, what is your job, exactly? Calling the meeting? This definitely should’ve been your job.

Futaba just texted me that she’s going to kill you and I want you to know that I will not stand in her way. I might’ve, but then you left me stranded.

 

***Missed call from: Makoto***

**[Makoto]**

At this point I will likely join her.

 

* * *

 

When he steps out into the sunshine his phone immediately starts ringing. He doesn’t look to see who it is before he answers. There’s no hello, no greeting, just:

“INARI IS HERE AND RUINING EVERYTHING!”

Then what sounds like a crash, followed by:

“HE HAS A PROBLEM WITH MY COLOR SCHEME.”

He doesn’t try to hide his bemused smile when his two friends catch up to him, eyes questioning. Akira can hear Haru in the background trying to calm what he imagines is something like an enraged Yusuke, completely disgusted with Futaba’s choice of crepe paper.

“STALL!”

Then silence.

“What was that about?” Ryuji asks. He didn’t catch any part of the conversation, just saw the funny look on Akira’s face.

“Futaba,” Akira explains, that ever-present smirk growing across his face, “She’s playing a game and losing. She might ragequit.”

Ryuji laughs while Ann’s eyes twinkle with understanding, “Ha! I’d give anything to see that. Betcha she’s terrifying.”

“Hope she sticks with it just a little longer!” Ann giggles, though it sounds like her teeth are clenched.

“Well, we got a meetin’ to get to, so maybe she should quit after all,” Ryuji shrugs. He turns and starts walking towards Leblanc, but Akira reaches out and grabs his shoulders before he gets too far 

“Let’s get snacks first,” he suggests. Ryuj’s grins excitedly as Ann nods vigorously.

  
“Yeah, man!” 

* * *

 

Back in Akira’s room, Haru is clutching Futaba to her chest. She’s surprisingly strong, Futaba thinks, as she wiggles and grabs to get to Yusuke.

“You tore my streamer!” she screeches at Yusuke, but he’s not really paying her much attention (which honestly just makes her angrier). Instead he’s holding his chin, eyes surveying the decorating job. She’ll admit it wasn’t _great_ before Inari got here--she struggled getting the streamers to look like anything besides colorful TP draped over Akira’s room’s beams--but this little shit just went through and _tore them all_ (read: some) _down._ She was ablaze with rage.

At this point, though, he’d actually done something productive instead of just tearing down her hard work. The crepe paper is draped over the beams; his gangly body proving useful for once. He’s alternated the colors (yellow, pink, and green--she picked the colors herself) which admittedly looks better than the haphazard was she did it earlier. But _still._ He _had_ his job, and it was tacked on the wall over the couch. This was _hers._

“Futaba, please,” Haru grunts out. Her hold gets a little tighter.

“Yes, this is better,” Yusuke mumbles. The frankness in his voice is irritating. It should sound pompous, but it doesn’t, completely void of any ego or pride. He’s just...recognizing it. Ugh.

“Ugh, this was my job!” Futaba says, arms still flailing and reaching for Yusuke. His eyes flick down to her, unperturbed.

“I kept a good portion of your original work intact,” he says plainly. “There were necessary improvements, though.”

“Ugh!”

“Hey,” Haru begins, voice quiet and grip loosening as Futaba slowly calms down, “Wasn’t Mako-chan supposed to be here by now?”

Yusuke’s jaw drops slightly. “Oh, yes, she is. I hadn’t realized she wasn’t here yet.”

“Real observant!” Futaba snorts, but truthfully she hadn’t either. Haru holds Futaba with one arm and pulls out her phone, dialing Makoto. Three rings into the call the door downstairs opens and shuts with a slam. The three thieves go rigid, eyes wide, but relax when Makoto’s voice flows up the stairs.

“Just me!” she calls. Once she gets up the stairs, Haru gasps and lets go of Futaba. Futaba just sort of flops forward and she doesn’t miss how Yusuke takes a reactive step back from her. She smirks at him.

“You look terrible!” Haru says, running over to Makoto. A blush rises on her cheeks.

“Haru,” Makoto sighs, but Haru’s already editing her phrasing.

“I mean-! You just look...hot!”

“Haru!”

“Ah! I mean, uh, worn out!”

Futaba snickers and catches Yusuke’s eye, and he shares her bemused expression. Makoto’s blush is somehow deeper and she coughs into her fist.

“Er, yes, I was a bit stressed about the gift.” She raises her wrist to show the shopping bag hanging off of it. It’s a bag much bigger than one meant for a single book. “I didn’t know which one to get...so I got them all…?”

“Oh boy,” Futaba groans.

“He will likely disappear for the rest of the summer reading them all,” muses Yusuke.

“At least he’ll be reading!” Makoto counters. Haru smiles sweetly.

“I think it’s nice. I’m sure he’ll appreciate the full set.”

“Oh, by the way, Futaba?” Makoto starts. Futaba looks up at her and cocks her head to the side. “When you decide to kill Akira, make sure you let me in on it too.”

“He’ll be after if you wanna join that one too,” she answers, jabbing her thumb in the air towards Yusuke. 

Yusuke mutters “Such violence in such a small body,” as Futaba grins wickedly and cackles. Her laugh is interrupted by the sound of her phone going off: an old dial-up noise that grinds through the room, causing her friends to cover their ears. Her laugh gets eviler as she leans for the table where it rests.

 

**[Akira]**

Okay, we stalled at the convenience store and got snacks. Are you guys ready?

 

**[Futaba]**

Ooo! What’d you get me?

 

**[Akira]**

The blood of your enemies

Can we come yet? Ryuji keeps asking Ann questions and we all know how well she lies

 

**[Futaba]**

:’3 you know me so well

And yes we’re ready

 

She looks up from her phone and smiles at her friends.

“Places, everyone! Sunshine is on his way!”

* * *

 

“It’s not that I _doubt_ you can eat twelve giant cookies in one sitting, I just don’t know how you would _enjoy_ it.”

Ann scowls at Ryuji. “Watch me,” she says, shifting the weight of the packet of cookies she bought from one arm to the other.

Akira smiles to himself walking up the Leblanc front door, but Ryuji reaches out and places his hand on Akira’s wrist before Akira can turn the knob. He looks up at his friend, eyes curious.

“W-wait, before we go in, I just wanna say somethin’.” Ryuji scratches the back of his head and lets out an embarrassed laugh. “If it weren’t for you guys, and the other Phantom Thieves, I woulda been spendin’ the day alone. Woulda been bored in class--well, I’m always bored in class, but y’know what I mean--and probly would’ve gone right home after school, sittin’ on the couch watching dumb TV or somethin’. It would’ve been just like any other day, y’know? But thanks you guys, I feel like today is special. I feel like I’m really doin’ somethin’ with my life, changing all these shitty people, and like I’ve got a second family I can count on. Standin’ out here, knowing we’re gonna go in there and do somethin’ that will make somebody’s day or even life better...it feels kinda like a gift.”

He means every word. No, they don’t know it’s his birthday. No, he’s not being showered in presents, or cake, or birthday decorations. No, he’s not sure when he’ll tell them today was his birthday. But yes: he would’ve spent his birthday alone, bored, and quiet if it weren’t for his friends. He would’ve felt just as lost as he used to feel, anger bubbling inside, frustrated he couldn’t do anything right. Yes, today feels special, not because it’s his birthday, but because they’re gonna go into Mementos and help someone. Friendship, purpose, love...so maybe they don’t know it’s birthday, but yes, they’re giving him all the gifts he could ever want.

Color rises to his cheeks when he sees Ann’s soft, dazed expression and the kind look on Akira’s face. “So...yeah. Just wanted to say that. I didn’t feel like gettin’ all mushy with everyone else yet so I wanted to say it before they got here.”

(Upstairs, crouched underneath the open window, Yusuke dramatically wipes a tear from his eye. “Get ahold of yourself, Inari,” Futaba grumbles, ignoring how full her heart feels. Across the room Haru has a hand over her heart and Makoto is smiling fondly)

“So...not a normal Monday after all, hm?” Akira asks, and there’s a smile playing at his lips, eyes shining and happy.

Ryuji lightly punches his shoulder. “Guess not,” he grins. Ann taps his shoulder, and when he turns, she envelops him in a tight hug. Neither of them say anything, just hugging, and when they pull apart _she_ punches _his_ shoulder. It’s not lightly, though, actually kind of hard, and Ryuji laughs.

“Aw, that was almost intelligent!” Morgana says, popping up from the backpack, little crumbs on his face from the cookie he asked Akira to buy. Ryuji’s eyebrows furrow in anger until he sees the smile on Morgana’s face and instead he mirrors the expression back.

They enter Leblanc and Ryuji is surprised to see the shop dark and cool, like it hadn’t opened today.

“Boss okay?” he asks, following behind Ann towards the stairs. Akira waves his hand.

“He’s fine,” he says simply, “Just out.”

Ryuji doesn’t know what else to say, so he swings the bag of snacks over his other shoulder and puts his other hand deep in pocket.

The air feels...heavy, suddenly, but Ryuji can’t place why. Ann’s fingers are tapping like crazy on the banister as she rounds the stairs and even though Ryuji can only see half of his face, Akira looks like he’s fighting a losing battle against a smile. The dude _never_ loses composure, so what’s going on?

He pauses at the base of the steps. Something is off. Something is _definitely_ off. It’s too dark in here, too quiet., He feels nervous, almost scared, and wants to tell his friends to come back, make the meeting somewhere else. But then Akira has disappeared from view and Ann was at the top of the steps and his opportunity was gone, so he follows them up the stairs, feet just as heavy as the air.

When he gets to the top, his eyes are drawn to Akira: standing in the middle of the room, smiling at him, that same toothy grin from earlier this afternoon. Next he registers shapes; long, drooping shadows that fall from the ceiling and back to it, like snakes or worms, and Ryuji’s stomach drops. _Danger,_ he thinks, _Akira’s in danger._

Then the lights turn on. And the snakes are pink. And yellow. And...paper?

And then Ann jumps forward from where she was seated on the cushion Makoto gifted to Akira, screaming something that doesn’t register because there’s a another body bursting from under the table to his right (Haru, once his vision focuses), and Yusuke is coming out from behind the desk, and Futaba is crawling out from under Akira’s bed, and Makoto pops out from the other side of the bookcase and they’re all yelling and there’s a lot of noise and Akira is just standing, still standing, right there in the middle of the room.

Ryuji winces, shocked and unprepared for all the stimulation, but in a few moments he realizes what they’re yelling.

_Surprise!_

And then his eyes really take in Akira’s room: the snake-paper, draped over the beams in Akira’s ceiling. There’s little pieces of confetti everywhere, but especially on the table they unfold for their Thieves meetings. A “Happy Birthday” sign is pinned on the wall above the cushion and streamers hang from the window, flowing softly whenever a light breeze rolls through. His eyes are drawn back to the table: a cake, a _big_ cake, colored with blue and yellow frosting. At the top sits a few candles (unlit) and what looks sort of like Captain Kidd, only made of candy or food or something.

And, on that note, hanging above the sofa is something that _really_ looks like Captain Kidd. Ryuji can’t help the little gasp he has once he sees it. It’s a painting, a really incredible painting, of a larger-than-life Captain Kidd. The details are incredible, reds and yellows and blacks swirling on the canvas. At the forefront is a depiction of Ryuji, looking _seriously_ badass. Like, seriously. Like, he _really_ hopes he looks exactly like that in his metaverse because goddamn. He’s got a fist in the air, clearly summoning Kidd, and his eyes are a bright red color. They stand out against his blond hair and dark gray mask and his red necktie is blowing in some fake wind and-- _damn_ , it looks so good.

He shakes his head to get himself out of his daze and focuses instead on his team, all of them smiling and looking at him expectantly.

“W-what?!” He shouts, still struggling to take it all in.

“Happy birthday dork!” Ann yells back.

“Birthday?!” And, duh, now it comes together: birthday decorations, cake, the damn “happy birthday” sign he literally just read but somehow didn’t piece together.

“Yes!” Haru giggles, “Today’s your birthday, isn’t it?!”

Ryuji’s eyes sweep the room, “I-I mean, yeah! It is! But I never told you guys…?”

“Ann told us,” Akira says, and Ann beams at Ryuji, which makes him feel even more touched, that she’s remembered it after all these years. “And thank god she did because for some reason you’ve been pretending like it’s not?”

His friends start gathering closer to him now, their expressions warm and inviting and loving and Ryuji just basks in the glow, feeling warm and tingly and _warm._ He smiles sheepishly at them, especially when their brows knit in confusion as Akira finishes his statement.

“You’ve been pretending it wasn’t your birthday?” Futaba asks, “That’s like, the opposite of what you should do!”

Ryuji smiles sheepishly back at them and rubs the back of his neck, “I dunno, I just...didn’t want you to feel obligated to do somethin’ for me, I guess? Or feel bad that you didn’t already know.”

“This isn’t _obligation,_ ” Yusuke scoffs, sounding genuinely insulted, “We did this because we _wanted_ to.”

“Yeah! Akira came up with a job for each of us!” Makoto says. Everyone is surrounding him now, a tight half circle.

“I made the cake!” Haru grabs Ryuji’s arm and shakes it.

“I slaved away at decorating this dump,” Futaba waves an arm over the room.

“I remembered your birthday,” says Ann with a wink.

“I got your presents!” Makoto points to the pile of wrapped presents near the leg of the table.

Ryuji’s eyes fall on the painting on the wall. “And that was you, Yusuke?” he assumes, pointing to it.

Yusuke looks down at the ground but smiles. “Yes, that was me. I’m sure my text to you earlier today makes sense now.”

Ryuji’s jaw drops again, looking over the painting a second time. “It’s...it’s honestly incredible. I didn’t know you could paint like that. I can’t wait to hang it in my room and show it off! What’d ya title it? ‘Best Phantom Thief on the Squad’?” Ryuji’s eyes shine with playfulness.

Yusuke’s cheek grow pink from the praise. It sounds so sincere. “Well, perhaps you shouldn’t tell them it’s of a Phantom Thief...wouldn’t want to give yourself away.”

“Oh,” Ryuji frowns, “True.”

“I was nice to you!” Morgana says from the ground, “Mostly!”

Ryuji laughs lightly. “Shoulda guessed somethin’ was up when you didn’t say anything after I told Akira and Ann I thought I failed my quiz today.” His eyes fall on Akira.

“‘N you?” he asks, “What’d you do for my birthday?” he crosses his arm across his chest now, playing up the birthday ego.

Akira’s eyes narrow but the classic smirk remains. “I _was_ going to spend a day with you this weekend doing whatever you wanted, but your mom beat me to it.” 

“Looks like you’re the only one empty-handed here, then, fearless leader. Gotta say I’m disappointed.”

“That’s a lotta talk from somehow who wouldn’t even admit it was birthday ten minutes ago,” and then Akira looks at Ryuji from over the tops of his glasses, eyes suddenly dark like how they get in the metaverse, “But don’t worry, I got a plan B,” and the way he says it sends shivers through Ryuji’s body.

“Come on!” Haru tugs on Ryuji’s sleeve, “Let’s enjoy the cake! I made it from scratch!”

 

Over the next few hours they sit at the table, enjoying cake under Yusuke’s painting and Futaba’s decorations, opening presents (and holy shit, he can’t believe Makoto got him the _entire_ manga set, even if he already has the first three), and in general enjoying each other’s company. The entire time Ryuji feels like he might explode from how full and happy he feels, absolutely drowning in the love from his friends. They go around in a circle and tell him their favorite moments involving Ryuji since they all got together (he actually has to bite his cheek to keep from crying when they do the “serious” round and doesn’t try to stop the tears from falling with laughter when they do the “funny” round). They ask him stories about his mom. They steer carefully, effortlessly, away from his childhood or his father and Ryuji wants to thank them for it yet knows he doesn’t have to. 

His heart feels so warm. His body buzzes with happiness. His hands start shaking, not from his ever-present energy but from the sheer _joy_ that covers each and every moment inside Akira’s room. These were his _friends,_ his best friends, his team. He thinks about how he didn’t want to tell them it was his birthday and kicks himself; why would he bother keeping it a secret? Look at what he could’ve missed out on. He thinks back to what Yusuke said: they _wanted_ to do this for him. They didn’t do it because they felt like they had to; they did it because they wanted to. His birthday was _important_ to them. It mattered. _He_ mattered. And that, more than anything, fills Ryuji up with so much light he’s sure he’s shining.

 

Ann starts telling embarrassing stories from middle school and Ryuji shoves a bite of cake in her mouth to make her stop. They take down Yusuke’s painting and ask him to describe the process, his fingertips ghosting over the paint while he speaks. The cake disappears (Ann somehow managed to eat four slices _and_ her cookies), the conversation slows, eyelids start drooping with food-coma warmth and happiness.

 

“I think I better get home,” Makoto says, patting her full stomach. “Sis is gonna get home soon.”

The other Phantom Thieves all echo the sentiment, each one needing to head home, but it doesn’t feel like they want to leave. Ryuji understands, of course he does, so with almost tearful happiness he bids them all farewell. Futaba is the last to leave and Ryuji doesn’t miss how she swipes Book 1 from his manga set on her way out (they’d talked about it weeks ago--he’s surprised she remembered he read it, even more surprised she wants to read it too).

At last, once the room is filled with silence, minus Morgana’s soft snoring on the bed, Ryuji turns to Akira.

“I can help ya clean all of this if you want,” he says, gesturing to the decorations and slight mess the Thieves have left behind. Akira waves it off.

“No, it’s your birthday. No need to do that on your birthday.”

“S’not like I got anythin’ better to do at home. Mom won’t be home until late,” he replies. Akira looks at him carefully, almost delicately, the evening sun glowing through the room. Little dust particles sparkle in the air and Ryuji is struck by how serene Akira looks, how soft his features are, how dark his hair is.

Akira takes three big steps towards him suddenly and his face breaks into a smile. His hand reaches up and Ryuji lets out a stunned noise when Akira’s fingers twist into his hair, ruffling it like his mom does. It’s small, so insignificant and yet so important. There’s no reason Akira would ever know how much it meant to him growing up, what it means to him now, but of course Akira does this, of course Akira somehow intuitively can break down all of Ryuji’s walls and find the best parts of him and bring them forward. Somehow Akira can build Ryuji up and unravel him all at the same time.

Of course, Akira’s touch is different than his _mom_ ’s, and though the general feeling he gets from it is similar (love, kindness), there’s an underlying buzz on Ryuji’s scalp when Akira runs his fingers through his hair.

“You’re my best friend,” Akira says as he does this and again Ryuji thinks he’s gonna burst, “And I know I probably don’t say it enough, but thank you for everything you do. Especially staying to clean your own surprise party on your birthday.”

A blush creeps up Ryuji’s neck and settles deeply into his cheeks. “Aw, man, anyone’d do it,” he mumbles. “And, also, thanks for throwing this for me today. I can’t tell ya how much it means,” and with a pit in his stomach Ryuji realizes he really couldn’t tell Akira how much it means. There weren’t words for it. Ryuji would just have to show Akira with his actions, throwing himself into protecting Akira or saving the Phantom Thieves or _some_ thing. He’d have to up the passion and loyalty somehow, prove to his friends how much he appreciated them and their kindness. He clenches his teeth; he _would_ show them, someday, make them see how much he loved them.

When Akira pulls back and looks Ryuji in the eye, he sees that same darkness he saw earlier and it makes his knees feel a little like jelly. With a tone dark and deep, face _way_ too close and gaze wicked, Akira says:

“Hey, how about after we finish cleaning, I’ll show you what my Plan B present was.”

**Author's Note:**

> note: his plan B is birthday sex (ryuji stands no chance against akira's wiles)


End file.
